—
Me, alone, in a bedroom. It’s nighttime and the lights are off.
My face and my chest and my ribs hurt. They hurt the way muscles do when you use them far too much for far too long.
I’ve been crying. I’m crying still.
I try to take a deep breath to calm myself, but it’s painful. I try for a shallow one, but any amount of air is too much. A small breeze sighs across my face. I turn my head toward it. Streetlight through the open window paints a shadow on the floor. The edges are clear and they are sharp.
I look down at my hands and the thing I’m clutching between them.
It’s a funeral program. There’s a photograph of X’s face. The caption readsIn loving memory: Xavier Darius Woods.
The date on it is ten months from now.
CHAPTER 49
Gone, Part 1
APPLAUSE ROARS AROUNDus. Because of our kiss, there are hoots and hollers too.
I rip myself away from X.
He reaches for me. “Evie, what’s wrong?”
I back away and close my eyes against the confused hurt on his face when he realizes I’m running away from him.
Everything hurts. The air around me hurts.
I run and run until I’m gone from here. I run until I’m gone.
CHAPTER 50
Love and Its Opposite
I DON’T FEELthe wind through the open window of the cab. Or the soreness of my feet from my heels as I climb the stairs to my room. Or the throbbing of my scalp where my hair is pinned too tight. Or the scalding of the too-hot water against my skin. Or the slippery coolness of my sheets as I slide into bed. Or the warm tears on my face as I cry myself to sleep.
I don’t feel anything at all.
The opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s death.
CHAPTER 51
Gone, Part 2
X:Hey, where are you?
X:They’re about to announce the winner
X:Where are you?
X:Holy shit we won
X:Hey, been calling and calling
